Why the girls rooms were upstairs and the boys rooms downstairs, you don't particularly know. It makes as little sense as the infirmary and pill-dispensing station being upstairs. Since boys are more likely to start fires and traditionally you want the weak and defenseless near the escape routes, that would reverse the order of things. But no, the girls are upstairs.

Not that you particularly mind. The attic has some nifty stuff in it, and the cats can get in and out of the upstairs just as easily as downstairs. The rooftop garden is peaceful and there's a place where you can smoke without it being too likely you'll get caught, if you're inclined to do so (you're not). The outer stairwells have a measure of privacy for purposes both benign and nefarious, the downside being that they have privacy for purposes both benign and nefarious. Your room - naturally - is towards the end, right across from the doors to the stairwells and next to the restroom. Furthest away from the orderly station, of course, which suits you better than other people might think.

Crookie alerts you to other people, by stopping near your door and arching her back, growling softly. She hisses a little, and growls softly again as you crouch and stroke her back. The black cat relaxes a little, her tail looking like someone tried to electrocute her, and you stand up and walk into your room, prepared for just about anything.

Anything turns out to be two of the Bratz, as you not-so-affectionately call the supposedly rehabilitated young women whom Sister Christina claims are the cream of her crop. There are about six or seven of them at any given time, lead by the blonde Tiffany (a name you're sure she chose for herself) and held under tight control by her three favorites. Charming, lovely, and utterly hypocritical. The second is one of those favorites: Priscilla, a quiet, dark haired girl whom you are absolutely certain is utterly insane. She is quiet, polite, and beautiful, and you have founder her playing with dead frogs, birds, and squirrels. She hasn't graduated to cats, yet, and if she does, there will be blood.

"So you're here in the West Wing, far away from all your broken dolls and messed up toys. Deep in enemy territory, with no way out." You simply look at her, which pisses her off even more, and she was already wound up for a fight. "Well, now you're in my territory, bitch, and I think it's time you learned who was boss." Priscilla's eyes flicker towards the door behind you - not the opening, but the door itself, and you hear it creak slightly as whoever was behind it rushes out.

[] Don't bother turning around. You can break any kind of hold they might have. [] Lash out at whoever it is - they should know better.[] Turn around and see who it is, then deal with them appropriately.[] Write in:

>>1984855>[] Turn around and see who it is, then deal with them appropriately.I don't really know enough about Hekah's history with these girls, or how observant they are, to be certain that they don't know how to exploit Hekah's weaknesses.

Also hi XS, are you feeling any better/has the air quality improved some?

>>1984855>Rush forward, and hug_ Priscilla>WELL IT'S A PLEASURE TO BE YOUR NEIGHBOR TOO>Sit the both of you down on the bed, to see whoever tried to attack you and is possibly trying very hard not to hit priscilla now

[X] Write in: Awww, Tiffany is so nice to welcome you! You must hug her!

You glance behind you by looking in the mirror and see the mousy little Jeanine with a length of pipe or something trying to brain you. It wouldn't work, but that doesn't necessarily mean it won't hurt. So you take a quick couple of steps and wrap your arms around Tiffany, who looks like you've gone crazy and like she might also try and chew on your head, and smile broadly up at her. "Why thank you, neighbor, it's so nice to finally be one of the girls!"

You spin slightly which startles Priscilla into stepping away from you as you sit yourself and Tiffany on the bed. she starts struggle in earnest, and then she feels your fingernails against her neck as you lean in, and look coyly at poor Jeanine, who looks panicked at her failure to hit you. Priscilla goes tense, her eyes wide and her expression otherwise unchanged, that permanent little smile affixed to her face like a mask. If there is a soul in there, it is broken beyond all repair; personally you wouldn't lay odds on there being one in there in the first place. Both she and Tiffany are well aware of what you can do with those nails of yours, and while they might not be razor sharp, they will most certainly cut through her neck like it was butter.

"That's no way to greet your new neighbor, Jeanie. Why don't you put that heavy old thing on the floor. Pretty please?" You press lightly, dimpling the clean white throat of the girl half in your lap. You inhale the strawberry cream fragrance she is wearing, and it can't quite cover up the bitter, medicinal scent of some drug or another. Not crank, or crack; maybe Ex, or cocaine. The act of taking in her scent makes Tiffany shudder violently. "Just being friendly, Tiffany, don't get your panties in a bunch," you warn her softly, trying to keep your eyes on Priscilla and Jeanine at the same time.

Priscilla just watches you, one hand slipping into the pocket of her dress, while Jeanine drops the pipe, looking terrified beyond reason. It's understandable, she's probably just as scared of the Bratz as she is of you. You've never had a reason to bother her, she's never done anything stupid (like hurt your cats or bother your kids), but that doesn't mean she hasn't heard horror stories and rumors.

[] Technically, I'm bi, darling....and you smell very pretty today.[] Run along, Jeanine; just go to your room and you'll be just fine....[] Priscilla, why don't you hand whatever you're getting to Jeanine, and we can all make nice....right?[] Write in:

>>1984900>[] Priscilla, why don't you hand whatever you're getting to Jeanine, and we can all make nice....right?...You kind of have to admire their guts for thinking they can bully someone who they know to be at least somewhat monstrous, but then again fuck them.

[X] Priscilla, why don't you hand whatever you're getting to Jeanine, and we can all make nice....right?

"Priss," you call softly, watching Jeanine and lifting your head a little to smell Tiffany's hair, "give whatever you might have there to poor Jeanine, and we can all make nice. All right?" Tiffany is breathing hard, and looking kind of pale. You kind of hope she isn't going to get sick. Apparently she's really bothered by the idea of a girl liking her that way. Of course, you are pressing your nails against her throat, which probably isn't helping.

Tiffany makes a soft, strangled noise as you inhale the sweet-fruit scent of her shampoo, which can't quite cover up that medicinal smell. Priscilla looks at you, looks at Tiffany....Tiffany nods, quickly and carefully. You smile wickedly, and Priscilla - whose smile doesn't change one bit - pulls the scissors out from her pocket and holds them out to Jeanine. Jeanine swallows and creeps warily over to the taller girl, and holds out her hand. You can practically see Priscilla deciding whether or not she wants to plunge the scissors into the younger, smaller girl's hand. So, apparently can Jeanine, because she falters.

"Ah ah! Play nice, Priscilla, or your be wearing the new shade of red this fall." Tiffany freezes in place as you press your nails harder against her throat, just at the very edge of cutting her. Your grip on her arm tightens and she whimpers ever so softly.

Priscilla looks at you, then at Tiffany again, and then places the scissors in Jeanine's hand lightly, almost like a lover giving her beloved a flower. She even leans close to do it, her soulless eyes gazing into Jeanine's terrified ones. Slowly she reaches over and draws some of the younger girl's locks away from her face, and then suddenly blows a tiny puff of air into the girls eyes. Jeanine reels, and then falls back on her butt, dazed and nearly swooning. Then those dead, lifeless eyes are on you, her smile back and as perfect and dead as ever.

[] Now that we got that cleared up, let's talk about whose in charge.[] Tiffany, darling, sweetheart....don't ever try anything this stupid again.[] I can see you two have issues. Stay out of my way, and i'll let you go yours.[] Write in:

>>1984917>[] Tiffany, darling, sweetheart....don't ever try anything this stupid again.>[] I can see you two have issues. Stay out of my way, and i'll let you go yours.Ha ha ha, everyone here is stuck in a pretty shitty situation aren't they?

[X] Tiffany, darling, sweetheart....don't ever try anything this stupid again.[x] I can see you two have issues. Stay out of my way, and I'll let you go yours.[X] Write in: And keep the drugs out of my room, they stink.

After watching Priscilla put poor Jeanine on her ass with a scary look and a puff of breath, you really can't help but wonder if she's something a little more weird than just a broken shell of a person. The first thought is 'witch', but the thought that follows right after, the deeper, more sure thought that comes from your gut and heart instead of your head, is 'sorceress'. Something's awake in there, and it's probably not just her.

Be that as it may, there's not much you can do about it. She's still a person, and you're still technically a person even if you aren't all that human. So you just have to keep your guard up and your eyes wide open. In the mean time....

"Tiffany. Sweetheart. Darling. If you ever try anything this purely stupid again, I will spank your ass so hard that you won't be able to sit down for weeks. And by spanking, I mean beating the crap out of you, your friends, and anyone whose ever looked at you with a fond smile." You slowly relax the pressure against her throat, and she starts breathing in fast, deep gasps. you inhale her scents once again, smelling her lightly floral scented deodorant, and the rich, heady stench of fear. "And for whatever Gods' sakes, keep the drugs out of my room, they stink."

"Well I don't have a fucking choice since you got my connection fired!" she hisses angrily, only to be reminded that she's not really in a position to be angry when you press your nails along the soft hollow of her throat and squeeze her arm hard enough to bruise. A small Mark, but enough for a few days. It does explain a lot thought.

"And here I thought I was joking when I told Lyrica you were playing hide-the-sausage with Jake." You stand her up and push her into Priscilla's arms, glowering at her. "I don't give a flying fuck about your issues, but you two have them in spades. Get the fuck out of my room, stay the fuck out of my way, and I will leave you idiots to your little games." Tiffany is glaring at you with murder in her eyes, while Priscilla is lightly rubbing her shoulders in a manner that is more like something you might do for Shauna. Tiff is too mad to notice or care, and might not even realize it anyways. "Remember the Rules, sweetheart," you murmur with a man-eating grin, and Tiffany swallows the spit she was about to try and plaster your face with.

Priscilla gently guides her out, but Tiffany is having none of that - she yanks out of her friend's grasp and storms out, haughty and superior, as if she'd put you in her place. Silly bitch.

Standing up you walk over to the dazed Jeanine, who sits there, scissors in hand, looking into nowhere and wobbling slightly. Kneeling you look into her eyes and she isn't seeing you, or possibly anything. You pat her cheek gently, and murmur, "Wake up, sleepyhead." It does the trick, surprisingly; she blinks, sees you, and scrambles backwards and onto her feet, brandishing the scissors towards you. Remaing crouched, you look up at her, not smiling because that would probably just scare her.

[] Swing the door shut and ask her what in Goddess' names she thinks she's doing.[] Just watch her, and gesture to the open door; her 'friends' are no doubt waiting for her.[] Ask her if she really wants to be threatening you, and wouldn't she rather have you as a friend?[] Write in:

[X] Just watch her, and gesture to the open door; her 'friends' are no doubt waiting for her.[X] Ask her if she really wants to be threatening you, and wouldn't she rather have you as a friend?[X] Write in: While her friends might be waiting for her, they'll probably be waiting for you after dinner, and with reinforcements. ....why is she sticking around? not going to be roommates, last you checked.

With the full awareness that they won't forgive and forget you, especially after humiliating them and removing their easy source of drugs, you look up at the frightened girl and gesture to the unblocked, open door. She glances at you, then at the door, and you slowly stand up, looking at her with a little confusion. "Look, we're not supposed to be roomies or anything, and it would be especially awkward considering have a boyfriend and a girlfriend already, which means it would be really crowded in the bed. So....are you more scared of them than you are of me? Because I'm really not going to hurt you. And really, those scissors aren't going to hurt anyone but you, if you try and stab me with them."

Jeanine looks at the handle of the scissors she has pointed at you, and drops them in her rush to try and turn them so the blades are pointed at you instead. You watch her scramble to pick them up and she manages to get them open, which is when you decide enough is enough. Gently, you place your hands over hers, careful to keep the blades open. "You're going to hurt yourself, Jeanine," you murmur softly, and gently take the scissors away from her to set them aside.

She bursts into tears, quietly at first, and slowly growing in volume. Closing the door before the soft crying becomes body wracking sobs, you then step closer and wrap your arms around her, patting her back and letting her sob into your shoulder. Soft reassurances spill from your mouth, several years of taking care of crying children easily coming to the fore in this all-too-common situation. "There, there....it's okay....let it all out, sweetheart...." With a soft sigh you comfort her until she sniffles and has cried herself entirely out.

Pulling a pocket pack of tissues, you offer them to her, and she takes a couple, looking miserably grateful. you let her blow her nose, and nudge the trashcan towards her. She drops the tissues into the trash and you offer her some more, which she uses to clean her tear streaked face. "S-sorry," she says, looking at the floor.

[] Apology accepted. Find some better friends, sweetie.[] It's okay, but I think you owe me some kind of explanation.[] You can make it up to me, if you're really sorry. Nothing sexual, don't worry.[] Write in:

>>1984977>[] It's okay, but I think you owe me some kind of explanation.Or at least, >I want an explanation, and I think you might want someone to listen to you>[] You can make it up to me, if you're really sorry. Nothing sexual, don't worry.>And only if you feel confident you can do it without repurcussion, I meant it when I said I don't want to see you hurtOnly if applicable

[X] It's okay, but I think you owe me some kind of explanation.[X] Write in: ....And maybe you can help me out, if you're up to it.

Jeanine Harmony is a 15 year old girl who is simply one of those girls that is too quiet, to shy, and too withdrawn when around adults to be appealing as an adoptee. Her nervous nature - as made very clear to you in the past five minutes - undoubtedly makes her a klutz and even more embarrassed or embarrassing to her potential parents. So she stays in Edgewood and suffers through this quiet hell other people don't look too deeply into.

You lift her chin gently and look into her red eyes. No, not red, just brown, albeit totally bloodshot. "You wanna talk about it? I mean, you just broke down and cried in the room of someone who you tried to bash in the head with a lead pipe. Some kind of explanation is in order, you know?"

She doesn't blush prettily - blotchy and red and altogether unappealing. But it's honest at least, and you can appreciate that. You run your thumb along her cheek and look into her eyes. "I may be a monster, but I have good hearing too." She snorts laughter and you smile back at her, and sit down on the bed. she hesitantly sits next to you, and quietly explains.

When it became clear to her - and it did very early on - that she was not going to be one of the Lucky Ones, she decided to make the most of what she could have. The easiest thing to do was to be useful to the girls who wanted things. Extra portions at meals, envelopes and stamps, a stolen scrip from the doctor's booklet, a note passed to one or the other orderlies....simple things that started to become very complex. Word got around, as it always did, and eventually Tiffany and her cronies decided she was working for them. It was the same sort of thing, but now she was with the cool girls.

Except the cool girls always pushed a little harder, made her risk a lot more for a little more gain, convinced her that she could get in good with them is she just made that little extra effort, let an orderly get a couple of handfuls, make out with the right boy for just a bit, and so on. Nothing like whoring, no, but it was nothing no one else hadn't dealt with or suffered through. And sadly, she's right; though it isn't quite as bad as all that it's pretty close to that bad. Naturally, hanging with the cool girls meant you stayed away from the Bad Kids, the ones who would drag you down, and you definitely stayed away from the wicked witch.

So when they said she had to do this or she was going to end up in trouble for other things, she tried to do her best. But when she saw it was the Witch, well....she hesitated. And that was more than enough for the tables to be turned. "And I know they'll never forgive me," she murmurs forlornly. "I don't know what i'm going to do...."

"Well, I need some help, but it's nothing so risky or dangerous, and it will help other people in the long run. and even if you don't help me....you don't need to worry about the Bratz. They'll leave you alone." You kiss her forehead, Marking her as yours for a short while. "I'll make sure of that...."

>>1985010>>1985007Thanks for running. So it seems like Hekah has a fairly clear goal of what she wants to do as a career if she manages to live to adulthood with at least a good chunk of her humanity and sanity intact.

With Jeanine comforted, kissed on the forehead, and clean-faced, you walk the girl into the hall, your hands in your jacket pockets. She walks away with her head lowered, looking flushed, and you're pretty certain she's going to get some teasing, Especially with a couple of the other girls on this floor looking. You give them a hard look, and lay a finger across your lips; they get the message and make themselves very much absent. It won't help in the long run, but for tonight it is enough.

You wander your room for a few minutes, arranging the few personal things you own: a stuffed animal, clothing, the cute heart pillow made by someone who was actually adopted out of Edgewood, a few precious photographs, and a drawing of a floppy eared bunny lovingly rendered by your favorite lil' rabbit. You also Mark the room as yours, because it is, and you wonder who they will move into your old room.

That takes an entire five minutes, so you're stuck in the two or so hours before dinner with very little to do. Also, your hand is really starting to throb now despite the ointment and whatever purpose the leaf is supposed to serve. Shaun is out hanging with some of the other boys and guys from the East Wing, Bethany is coloring in her room, the boys you accosted downstairs are still downstairs playing their games and undoubtedly talking about how they'd have handled you in a 'real fight', while the Tiffany and undoubtedly some of her friends are hiding out in one of the rooms, and you can taste the bitter tang of cigarettes. Shauna, however, is on the roof, enjoying the cool breeze and thinking of you.

Opening your eyes, you find yourself a little dizzy from the effort of tracking down so many marks made in such a short time. It becomes easier, the longer the marks are worn, making Shaun and Shauna almost as much a part of you as you are dear to them. Even now, while he hanging with the boys, Shaun has warm feelings towards you and his sister, and it takes nothing to feel that warmth for yourself.

>>1987961I'm kind of torn. We do need to find Jake, and they seem like a pretty good lead, but after how we ended things with the Bratz last time, it seems awkward to just approach them again like five minutes later.

Regretfully, you can't afford to waste time. The sun sets early, but you're pretty sure the....things you're having trouble with won't be out and about until enough people are asleep they won't accidentally get caught. Say ten-thirty or eleven o'clock. Maybe a little after when the orderlies start slacking off. So you slip silently down the halls and keep an eye out for a likely target.

A likely target appears in the form of Marie Tinder, a 14 year old Bratz-girl who is both smart and trusted by the others of the group. Her attitude leaves a lot to be desired by those in charge, because she has what is called 'oppositional defiant disorder'. Basically, authority pisses her off to an uncontrollable extent. It gives the orderlies fits because they have to be nice to her to get her to do what they want, unless they feel like beating the crap out of her or drugging her. She's had more time in a straight-jacket than anyone else here. You, on the other hand, have no issues with beating the crap out of her and she knows it.

It doesn't mean she'll be any easier to coerce, it just means you and she know where each other stand.

Marie is, as usual, in one of the classrooms, reading by herself. Her adversarial nature can't even be overcome by people she likes. The reason she is still a Bratz-girl is because she's so damn smart she can get into the computer systems and mess with grades, tests, and the like. So she is a valuable asset and probably the old reason Priscilla is getting passing grades. Her photographic memory is critical for your purposes, because a smart person knows how to get a hold of the connections you get your drugs from whehter they like it or not.

[] Skip right to confrontation mode.[] Try the reasonable approach.[] Ask her if she wants to get on Tiff's good side. Assuming she has one.[] Write in:

>>1987996>Be reasonable. Offer to pay for services rendered.Making it a deal should sidestep the whole authority thing, right?>>1988002I like the thought, but maybe go for the more likely>Find out if she can deliver us a map of the local underground.

[X] Try the reasonable approach.[X] Write in: Sewer maps would be good. Has she been down there? But paying for services rendered might be a good way to start.

Marie looks up as you walk in, and her lips become a pale, thin line. She doesn't say anything rude or bitchy, though, which is kind of a good sign. You keep your expression neutral, which seems to mollify her a bit, and when you take a seat on the desk near but not next to her she relaxes a little more. "All the others are hanging out and getting stoned on cigarettes," you inform her and she relaxes just a little more. No fun getting caught talking to you, after all. "I know Jake's on leave, but I need to talk to him. I got some money...."

"It'll take more than money for me to give you his address," she answers flatly. "But if you can get some of the stuff he was supposed to give us, I'll call it an even trade." She knows how Lyrica feels about you doing drugs, so you as a go-between makes a certain amount of sense.

"If it wasn't so damn important I wouldn't even think about making that kind of deal, you know." She looks at you seriously and sets her book aside.

"It's about the lemures, isn't it," she murmurs quietly, glancing at the doorway.

"....I have no idea what monkeys have to do with this."

She gives you a look like you're stupid, and you rein in your temper. "The things that give people nightmares. The slimy melted things. They're called lemures, and they're restless dead. It's Latin. They're like ghosts that are cancerous."

"....yeah. I'm going to kill them all. Uh, again. Whatever." Marie smirks a little. "How do I do it?"

Leaning back in the chair she looks at you and frowns, and you curse the slip of the tongue that makes the question sound like a demand. To your surprise, she starts talking anyways. "You can't really kill them, but you can scare them off. Loud noise, sudden movements. They're fearful as well as fearsome. They're cthonic, creatures of the earth, kind of like you. Something like you should be able to drive them away for good." She takes a deep breath. "There aren't any maps, and I don't go down there, but the drainpipes aren't the sewer system. So don't bother with that. They're not very bright, and they subsist on pain and despair."

"That stuff they lick off the faces of the kids they give nightmares to."

That actually impresses her. "Yeah. They're unloved and badly buried dead, so they must have come from the pauper's cemetery. Don't know why they came here."

[] Share you experience with the vampire.[] Get the address and leave.[] ...exactly what do you know about me?[] Write in:

>>1988021>[] Share you experience with the vampire.Also share what the Doctor told us about them, as well as that one kid who's buried on campus that we're not sure is a red herring or not. Like he certainly died unloved, but you'd think the "Sister" would at least know how to bury someone properly

...This sounds too easy, as long as we make ourselves scary as possible (which should come easy) and maybe even bang pots and pans together and keep a positive attitude, we can spook these ghouls away? But then again, I can't see any reason for Marie to lie to us.

...Also I'm not sure how not being able to be killed fits in with our desire to eat them? But I'm not sure I want to ask Marie that.

Supporting this one >>1988030 since the story of Sebastian involved submitting to authority and not ending well for him. 50/50 odds of Marie being more willing to talk or flipping though, so who knows.

>>1988021>Share, tit for tat. She tells us something new about the lemures, we tell her more about the vampire and this place's history.We might be ostensibly on the same side for this one, but we need to maintain a roughly equal authority, and bratz get nothing from us for free.

[X] Share your experience with the vampire. And what the doctor said. Trade of information.[X] Write in: Try and stay safe - but phrased more carefully.

"There's something else down there, though. Something weird and fucked up. I think it's a real vampire, not like the lemures." After you tell her about your experience, quietly, she is pretty shaken by the idea. You consider and make a connection you hadn't before. "If a vampire that makes people sick by being around them kind of....passively eats their life force like that....could they feed on lemures too? Like use them as collectors so it doesn't kill anyone directly?"

Marie looks a little distressed by the idea of it. "Well....I guess so. Lemures don't actually need to eat anything, they're spirits more than anything else. Physical ones, but still just spirits. I guess? I mean, I've never read anything like that before, but I've never heard of a real vampire either." She considers. "I will say....if it's like the vampires in myths, it's probably going to be really hard to get rid of. Crosses and stuff don't really work. Garlic might, but it's not very likely. If it really is Sebastian....you'll have to dig up his grave and turn him over, or put his body in a crossroads and get his ghost lost. If it makes you sick, it could probably kill everyone in Edgewood in a couple of days."

That's a sobering thought you wish hadn't been brought up. "I'll get your drugs. If you happen to read anything more....I'll see you later." She scribbles an address on a page from her book and tears it out, handing it to you. A few blocks away, nothing you can't walk.

You hop off the desk and look her over. She's curled into the seat slightly, a guarded and defensive sort of position. Her expression becomes suspicious and just as guarded. "You Bratz cause a lot of pain and suffering, so those things probably like it around here." You shrug, not really sure how to tell her to be safe without causing her to flip out at you. She nods though, so maybe she understood. You're pretty sure she won't tell anyone else about this little conversation, or how she comes up with the stuff you might grab from Jake. You'd rather not, but a deal is a deal, and you're pretty sure you don't want to test the results of backing out on a deal.

Slipping out of the classroom without being seen is easy enough, but it's too early to even try and get out of here and talk to Jake. Your best bet is to slip out just after Lyrica does, and with Jeanine's help, you have a good chance of doing that. You're also not limited to the front and back doors, unlike Lyrica. Millicent, the fluffy Persian, wends her way around your legs as you head towards the stairwell that leads up to the roof. You smile and wave at Jennifer and Mark at the orderly desk, and they both take notice of you going up to the roof. They have a list of people who aren't allowed; mostly suicidal inclined kids and those liable to wreck the planter boxes out of spite, rage, or psychotic episodes. Well, maybe not that bad, but sometimes you wonder.

With an hour and a half before dinner, and another two hours before bed, you have time to kill, and it sucks. Reaching the roof you are greeted by grey skies and a cool breeze, as well as the bright greens, oranges and yellows of squash and healthy plants. Millicent is greeted by Maxwell and they wander back down the stairs through the cat-door, undoubtedly off to make cute Manx babies in Tiffany's room or at least near enough to make the Bratz regret life.

Shauna is sitting on one of the air conditioning units, hands in her lap and looking at the sky with a contented smile on her face. Before you get too close she slides off the unit and holds her arms out to you, her smile becoming a huge grin. You don't bother resisting, and hug her, giving her a soft, chaste kiss. She's been eating strawberries, and she smells of fresh lavender; she took a shower recently. You sigh softly and she takes your hand, leading you around the planters and towards the far side of the roof.

There are rabbit hutches there, and a pigeon coop re-purposed to house chickens, but both are currently empty. It is behind these she leads you and pulls you to sit with her on some heavy wool blankets left up here. "You need to rest," she informs you rather firmly.

[] ....yes mistress.[] I need to be distracted, because I can't do anything right now![] I have something better in mind.[] And how do you propose to help me rest?[] Write in:

I just realized that I wasn't paying close enough attention to the first thread, it isn't the vampire that makes Hekah hungry, it's the lemures. I guess I just kind of conflated the two, but they're two separate monsters and the lemures don't seem to be tied to disease?

So... even if Marie thinks they're indestructible, we might be able to eat them?

[X] ....yes mistress.[X] And how do you propose to help me rest?[X] Write in: Rather cuddle; rest is incidental.

The throbbing ache in your right hand hasn't subsided, and you were ill for two days, but you should have had plenty of rest then as far as you're concerned. You sit next to her and lean in, and she wraps her slender arms about your shoulders, stroking your thick, tough hair lightly, careful not to try and pull if she gets her fingers tangled. Not because she is worried about hurting you, but because your hair can leave cuts on delicate fingers if pulled against.

Running your hand up and down her side, you murmur into her neck. "I just want snuggles. Resting is just incidental. Besides, you can't make me, mistress." You feel her smile and she starts humming softly, playing with your hair and holding you close. Shauna is soft and warm, and you feel a creeping lethargy stealing over you. The pain in your hand subsides slowly, as she hums a soft, slow tune of some sort, and you have a hard time keeping your eyes open.

Gently she lays you down, your head in her lap, and her soft, warm eyes gaze into yours as she hums to you. Not a lullaby, it's familiar. "Shaun will take care of our babies," she reassures you. "You sleep, okay?" You try to protest but she starts humming again, and that creeping lethargy steals over you, your head warm and fuzzy, her delicate fingers tracing your lips and cheeks.

"But moooooom...." she giggles and then starts humming again. And once more that slow, hevy feelignof contentment and peace starts swallowing you. "Is that....?" you murmur thickly, and she nods. "....not supposed to be....how it works...." you manage, before blissful peace takes you away.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpGEeneO-t0

You wake up warm and relaxed, Shauna lying half over you and her fingers laced with yours. Shaun gazes down at you, amusement and love shining in his eyes and a wry half-smile across his lips. "I can't leave you two alone for a minute," he says softly, stroking his sisters hair and making her smile in her sleep. You tuck your hand under your head and look up at him. "All quiet on the home front, captain," he murmurs softly, as he settles down next to you. You shift yourself and Shauna easily, placing your head on his lap.

[] I found out something about those things....[] You want in on this? Blanket's big enough for three....[] Just bask in the warmth of their love for now.[] Write in:

[X] You want in on this? Blanket's big enough for three....[X] I found out something about those things....

You look up at him and then pat the blanket next to you. Shaun seems dubious at first, but you smile up at him, letting him see all the things no one else is allowed to see. His expression softens and he slips out from under you and lays down next to you, his arm reaching over you and resting on his sister's shoulder. A soft, happy noise slips from her sleeping lips, and you grin at your boyfriend as he blushes in the darkening afternoon. He is warm and hard along your side, a reassuring heaviness that you scoot just a little closer too as he gazes down at you.

He nods slightly. "Everyone assumes I'm the older and dominant, but truth is, she's in charge. Not like I have to tell you that." You smile ruefully, and he kisses your temple. You bask in the warmth of their love and their bodies, because the temperature is starting to drop.

"I found out about those things. Apparently Marie had a run in, because she did some research." You explain the lemures to him, and Shaun's expression becomes grim. "So, they're easily startled and scared off, but I'm apparently able to do things a little more permanent to them."

"I wonder if you can eat them," he posits, and you give him a dark look. "Well, if they make you hungry, and they're ghosts who prey upon despair and fear, and you're someone that makes fear and cures despair, it makes sense you'd be able to do something like eating them. Earth gods in the Greek myths had powers over the dead, and if you're a kind of earth goddess, that makes sense."

"How your brother can't keep his hands off you," you murmur, nuzzling her cheek to her delight, making Shaun grin shamelessly.

"'S cos you're pervert," she murmurs sleepily as she nuzzles back.

"Wait, how did I become the pervert in this equation!" you complain.

"Told you," Shaun admonishes as he starts to get up. "Come on, sleepyheads, it's almost dinnertime." You grab his shirt and drag him down for an involved kiss; Shauna lifts her head, and receives one as well, which she then passes on to you with happy little noises and surreptitious little gropes since she's lying half over you still.

"Sure, I'm the perverted one here," you mutter without rancor as she breaks the kiss and Shauna nods agreeably, much to her brother's amusement.

As the three of you head down the stairs and caress the Upper East Wing towards the stairs to get down to the cafeteria - pausing only long enough for doctor Rikandra to accost you and deliver the prescription saying you have to take double portions for your evening meal, ("Or else," she adds, and you're pretty sure you don't want to find out what the 'else' is) - you explain to the twins that you have a few extra people for them to look out for. "I know you two don't go to the West Wing often, but still, a few of the kids there need the attention. Especially Jeanine. I'm pretty sure Tiffany is going to have it out for her."

Bethany is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs and puts her mitten-covered hand in yours as you walk with her and her poor, miserably rabbit to the cafeteria. Kit's there already and he winks at you as he hands you a sheaf of papers. "God, feel like I'm in high school. Oh wait," you mutter darkly, much to Beth and Shauna's amusement, and Kit's exaggerated exasperation.

With most of the forty-five kids that live in Edgewood present, you scan the crowd, looking for the haggard, sleepless, the most troubled.

It doesn't surprise you that most of them are girls, and most of them are in the East Wing.

[] Try and locate Jeanine.[] See if you can hook up with Lyrica.[] Relax and just do the dinner thing, you have plenty of time to worry after.[] Write in:

You wait in line with everyone else, and you present the prescription to the head cook, who nods and makes sure the others know that they have to try and put extra on your solid plastic cafeteria tray. You're not particularly happy with it, and sadly your appetite isn't all that strong after talking to Shaun about the lemures. that is, until you smell the beef stew they're passing off as food. It takes a bit of effort to keep from drooling, and Shaun pokes you gently when you hesitate too long in place, with a smile. You quickly make your way to the Table you and your friends habitually sit at, far away from the West Wing kids and even somewhat isolated from the East Wing kids.

Locating people you've marked is really quite easy, though newer marks are harder. Of course, since you in a cafeteria and you know the layout of who sits where, it's easy to locate her. By herself of course, shunned by her old 'friends', and even the three other kids at her table are doing their best to ignore her existence. she seems okay with it, at first, but she sees one of her late friends from the Bratz approaching,her tray laden and her milk container opened and wide mouthed. Jeanine tenses, but then slumps slightly, realizing it's far too late.

As you and your friends settle, Shaun and Kit notice your rapt attention, and they look, which prompts most of the people around you to look. A large portion of the cafeteria falls silent as Helena 'trips' and stumbles forward, dumping her tray onto the hapless and tensed Jeanine, the tray hitting her forehead and making you wince in sympathetic (and real) pain, prompting Bethany to rub your arm in concern. Soaked, soiled, and filthy, Jeanine looks forlorn, as Helena laughs, and looks happily amazed at how clumsy she is. The amount of laughter is subdued, and you glare at Helena, who notices your glare, but is too new to know better. As the laughter quickly dies down, you hear soft murmurs and a lot of muttering, and everyone at your table kind of scoots away from you, giving you a wide berth.

As the snickering and laughter dies even further, Helena looks half annoyed and half proud as she walks towards the table with her new and amused friends. There is a streak of black, and a loud yowl of angry panther that echoes through the cafeteria as Crookie zips between the girl's feet, making her trip. She falls, trying to catch herself, and the amazed shock and gasps that fill the room are gratifying as Helena grabs for the nearest support....

The chant ends in laughter and hisses and boos, and Helena picks herself up, still shocked by how everything could go so wrong so quickly. Tiffany stares daggers at you, but you're already eating, Bethany snuggled next to you, and kit flipping her the bird on the other side while Shauna and Shaun grin knowingly as they eat. Crookie curls up around your ankle and you feed her the best piece of stew-meat on your plate with gratitude.

When the orderlies come to help the two girls get cleaned up and straightened out, it's not very difficult to see how it will turn out, with Thomas helping the extremely angry and incoherently babbling Helena to her feet and guiding her towards the showers while taciturn and elderly Juliana assists the quiet and calm Jeanine towards a different set of showers. With only a cat to blame, Helena will have no recourse but to try and get cats banned from Edgewood (yet again, with all the success of the last few times), and try and take her ire out on the other girl later. Tiffany and her cronies might be sympathetic, because revenge is a great motivator and keeps people from asking questions.

On the plus side, Jeanine won't have to worry about any further overt issues. Not that you won't keep an eye on her, but for a day or two she'll be safe enough in public. Privately is another matter of course.

Crookie is draped over Bethany's lap, the normally irritable black cat content with stew meat and a person who isn't particularly grabby. It also keeps the girl's busy little fingers above the table or on soft fur, as opposed to, well, elsewhere. You might have encouraged it, maybe. Bethany can't really eat her dinner with mittens on.

Shaun and Shauna mention your assessment aloud, of course, and Kit agrees, but basically there's only so much you can do, especially with the rather important errands you have to manage. When Jeanine and Helena return, Orderly Juliana remains close by as they get their replacement dinners, keeping the girls from 'further mischief' no doubt. It isn't quite a coincidence that Jeanine notices your table, and hesitantly comes to join your group of misfits and freaks; she's welcomed immediately of course, and she finds herself drawn into conversation and jokes with surprising ease. She relaxes about halfway through her meal, and as you help Beth put her mittens back on and gently tighten the closures about her wrists after she's finished with her food, Jeanine is relaxed and as comfortable as you've seen her.

When the East Wing Weirdos get up to go to the common rooms, Shauna takes her by the arm and gently but firmly coerces her along, much to her surprise. You and Shaun share an amused, knowing look, while Kit and you go over the papers he gave you at a glance. Basically, about three pages of the very oldest vampire myths, and Doctor Rikandra was right: the vampires of myth bear as much resemblance to the movie and book vampires as the Twilight 'vampires' do - none at all.

[] Curl up with your reading material and your friends and just hang for now.[] You need to nip any retaliation in the bud right now.[] Go find Lyrica - the rules of engagement have changed a bit.[] Write in:

>>1993034Retaliation against who and for what? Like is it about the Bratz being dumb enough to pick a fight with us/Jeanine, or are the vampires/lemures gonna step up their game?

Also I'm inclined to go with>[] Go find Lyrica - the rules of engagement have changed a bit.Which I'm pretty sure isn't about backing out so much as reassessing our needs. It'll be night in only a couple hours after all.

[X] You need to nip any retaliation in the bud right now.[X] Go find Lyrica - the rules of engagement have changed a bit.

As much as you'd like to just sit and relax for a while, you have important things to discuss and some messy situations you'd like to deal with before they actually become messy. You give Beth head-rubs, resulting in her adorable face-squinch, and you sneak a kiss on the cheek for Shauna and a light caress of Shaun's shoulders. You tip the blushing Jeanine a wink as you swat Kit for having his feet on the couch. Apparently Jeanine thought the rumors were only rumors.

You make your way towards the double doors leading from the common room to the main hall, where Tiffany and her gaggle of self-involved would-be princesses are crowded, their surreptitious glances and whispered conversation all too obvious for anyone who has lives in Edgewood home for more than a month or two. as you breeze past them you give them their final warning. "I know what you're thinking. Don't." As you glance at the still damp Helena you add, "Next time it will be worse than just a black cat crossing your path. Next time it might be presents in your bed." She pales and you swear that fixed smile on Priscilla's face widened ever so little.

"Is that a threat?!" Tiffany challenges, her voice rising an octave.

"Of course not. How could I have anything in the world to do with cats leaving dead mice in people's beds? They're just cats, you know." The pretty cinnamon Siamese Cordelia chooses to meow at Tiffany at just that moment, and fully half the Bratz jump. You grins and she flushes angrily, knowing that saying what she thinks and knows is going to sound crazy no matter what. "Tah!"

Cordelia purrs as she rubs up against Tiffany's ankle, and Tiffany twitches, barely restraining the urge to kick the lovely, slinky little Siamese. You wink at her, and give her much more vicious grin.

It doesn't take long at all to find Lyrical. She's smoking, along with a couple of other older kids, up on the roof. When she sees you approaching she leaves the two boys and the other girl, walking to meet you in the middle of the garden. Not that you blame her, you're kind of a hot mess to be around for anyone who needs a reputation of any sort. "Hey psycho."

"Hey freak. What's up?"

"I got a little help with the thing you needed me to do, but the situation has changes a little. I don't need Molotovs, I need something like flash-bangs or noisemakers. something decently loud and impressive." You shrug helplessly as she tilts her head in bemusement. "So I'm picky."

>>1993187If we're allowed outside, check out Sebastian's grave see if we get a sense of palpable wrongness about it. Probably won't, but we should at least keep note of where it is and -maybe- Mark it (thought that could be risky).

>>1993184Anyone else a bit worried Hekah might be flaunting her cat-communion a bit too much? Like if an absolute asshole forced someone to hurt one of the cats, would the cats be smart enough to know who needs to pay?

You start down the stairwell, but make an immediate right. You dick in your pocket and pull out the rubber coin purse that serves as your wallet. Squeezing it, you fish out the small brass key and unlock the door to the attic with it. you 'listen', but what you are actually doing is 'feeling', the marks at the top and bottom of the staircase serving as a warning. With no oen else around, you slip inside the tiny stairwell that leads to the attic.

The attic is filled with the detritus of seventy-five years of the Edgewood's existence. Chairs, old style desks, boxes upon boxes of paperwork, and a few unused folding roll-away cots, complete with blankets and sheets. The place is relatively clean, definitely dry, and entirely rodent free. This is largely because there are anywhere from three to fifteen cats up here at any given time, and usually if you are here, it is the latter.

Pulling two of the cots out (quietly, thanks to the judicious application of oil to their wheels) and unfolding them, you flop onto them and pull the papers out of your back pocket. As you settle in to read, the cats come out of the woodwork (in a couple of cases, literally coming out of holes in the walls). Soon you are cuddled up with a dozen or so of the Edgewood cats, purring and playing around you and on top of you, basking in your presence as you read Kit's findings.

Vampires in the older myths, it seemed, were a fairly strange bunch. Mostly they were like ghosts, appearing near beds and in rooms after their deaths, and soon whomever they appeared before would wither and die, wasting diseases of varied sorts. Others would drink blood, but having no way to digest it, would vomit it back up or simply retain it, becoming bloated, red-faced corpses. Staking them seems to be something modern; usually they would be buried upside down, or at crossroads to confuse them and trap them with no way to find their victims, often family members rather than strangers. Not being able to cross running water without help was another trick. Garlic and roses seemed to go hand in hand with caraway and flax seed, deterrents but not an actual threat. Oddly, fire doesn't make an appearance as a threat either, nor did sunlight, except they had no shadows - shadows being cast not by objects, but by the souls of objects.

You idly stroke a very sated Maxwell's head, while his girlfriend of the night rolls back and forth against your side happily. You sit up as you read further, one particular thing catching your eye. To still a vampire could take wood, but specifically a wooden sword of yew; more commonly iron nails in the hear tor in the mouth could still one. The former would be difficult at best, but the latter....you bite your lip, and try and recall the things that Doctor Rikandra mentioned. Hags, specifically. "Cail....Caillach...."

There is a light tap at the door and you slide silently out of the bed as the cat scatter to the far corners of the attic. You slowly stalk to the door, which opens a crack....

[] Grab them and drag them in.[] Keep hidden, see who it is.[] Slip out as they slip in.[] Write in:

>>1993323>You sit up as you read further, one particular thing catching your eye. To still a vampire could take wood, but specifically a wooden sword of yew; more commonly iron nails in the hear tor in the mouth could still one. The former would be difficult at best, but the latter....you bite your lip, and try and recall the things that Doctor Rikandra mentioned. Hags, specifically.Most popularly, Black Annis/Agnes. But I'm not sure our nails are up to the task just yet?

You press yourself against the wall, pushing yourself up into the corner just above where the door swings in, trusting in the darkness of the room to hide you. Since you can see in the dark you never needed to bring a lamp or lantern here; the only light source will be the doorway and the few vents to the outside lights and the lambent orange light they let filter in badly. You'll be well out of that. Not to mention your black jeans and dark shirt and dark jacket.

"Hekah?" the soft, uncertain voice of your girlfriend floats through the doorway. She carefully slips inside and closes the door behind her, looking for you in the gloom, her eyes narrowing.

You slip down from the wall and step up behind her and she stiffens momentarily as you wrap your arms around her waist. Turning in your embrace Shauna melts into your arms, smiling warmly. "I thought you might be here," she murmurs softly, looking up at you.

"You were right," you inform her and she lightly pushes at you. you smile and lean in for a kiss, which she allows, her lips soft and faintly reminiscent of the cherry cobbler desert that was served. You sigh happily, inhaling the warm, fruity scent of blackberry body wash and lilac shampoo. Then you inhale again, tucking your nose into the crook of her neck and making her squirm and giggle as you tighten your grip.

Millicent hisses, and Maxwell growls behind Shauna, and she turns around looking towards the cots. "Max! Milli!" She turns and looks at your expression, and realizes she's fucked up. Badly.

Shauna uses lavender bod- and hair-wash.

She definitely can't see in the dark.

[] Squeeze HARD, and make it give up the facade.[] Play it off; ask her why she changed her shampoo.[] Back away from whoever or whatever it is, give yourself some room.[] Write in:

>>1993323>[] Keep hidden, see who it is.>>1993378But yeah, yew is probably unlikely? I'm not sure if the two American variants>https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taxus_brevifolia>https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taxus_canadensisAre good enough (or if Hekah has time to look into them), or if she even lives within either species grows, and without that we'd have to break into a botanical garden and hope for the best, because I assume that taking yew furniture and breaking it and sharpening the pieces into a sword wouldn't work because animism.

>>1993385>[] Squeeze HARD, and make it give up the facade....Honestly what disturbs me is that what gave this impostor away is that she/it paid -too much- attention to us. Like if she didn't know the names of our cats she might have gotten away with it for longer.

You don't quite snarl, but it's a close thing; instead you tighten your embrace, and squeeze. And squeeze. And squeeze.

The thing that looks like Shauna only looks confuses at first. "Hekah?" she asks plaintively, and then she starts struggling as you threaten to break ribs and crush her spine. She places her hands against your arms and pushes....hard, breaking your grasp with only a little effort. Staggering back, her face melts, twists and becomes familiar....but not Shauna's.

Priscilla's dead, permanent smile glitters in the dark, her soulless eyes gazing at you with admiration. Your skin crawls as you realize you kissed her and the tendons and ligaments in your arms snap and pop as your knuckles tighten and your hands strain, claw-like. Priscilla looks at you coyly, almost coquettishly, and the urge to tear the smile from her face along with her lips is really quite strong.

[] What the fuck, you insane bitch?![] You have ten seconds to explain yourself before I rip your face off, you twisted fuck.[] Just tear her goddamn face off - there's nothing human in there, you're fucking sure of it now.[] Write in?

[X] What the fuck, you insane bitch?![XX] You have ten seconds to explain yourself before I rip your face off, you twisted fuck.[X] Write in: Shauna had better be all right....

You don't dare take your eyes off of Priscilla, but you feel the marks, the deep scratches that have long since healed that mark Shauna and Shaun as yours, forever. She's still down in the common room, happily talking with the others, and Shaun is nearby, playing a game of some sort, concentrating hard. You don't let the relief you feel show on your face, only the anger and disgust that makes your skin crawl as you face this insane thing that pretends to be a person.

"What the bloody fuck, Priscilla!? Are you out of your Gods damned mind?!" Your angry snarl just makes her smile a little bit wider, and it's about as real as her normal smile.

"You liked it," she accuses mildly, moving a little closer.

She stops when you raise your hands, ready to grab her if she comes any closer. "I liked kissing Shauna, because that's who I thought I was kissing, you stupid bitch. You'd better fucking explain yourself before I decide that you're to dangerous to leave alive, Priss."

"I don't need to hide the body, just the bones." Her smile falters ever so slightly, and then slowly fades as she turns to see the dozens of eyes shining in the dark, all fixed on her angry cats, twenty, maybe thirty, possibly more, filling the attic behind her. "And I've got lots of places to hide bones."

She licks her lips slowly, and turns back towards you. Her smile returns and she looks at you with that attempt at coyness once again. "Come on, Annie, you don't have to be that way....you could rule this place along with me, side by side....feasting to your heart's content...." She moves a little closer and you lift your clawed hands higher and turn your head slightly while lowering it, protecting your neck, making her back off. She might be stronger than you, but she's not tougher. "Aww, Anne, don't be that way...." Her voice is smooth, oily, slick, and you feel your scalp tighten and your hair stand on end, which is a feat.

You also remember how she dazed poor Jeanine with a puff of breath.

[] What do you mean by Anne? You know my name.[] Fuck you; you pretended to be my girlfriend, and now you're what, trying to get me to eat children?[] Not a reason bitch! Speak now or forever feed my cats![] Write in:

>>1993475>This place is -already mine- even if it's not official, and I definitely don't need your help to claim it if you think such a basic "join the dark side" speech that you just spouted to cover your ass is gonna work. I bet you don't even know what it is I want to feast on.Though if she does know it's lemures, begrudgingly listen to her but, if needed, break something unwanted to calm down a bit.

>Annie huh, is that an attempt at flattery? Should I call you Circe to return the favor?At least I'm guessing Annie is a riff of "Black" Annis.

[X] What do you mean by Anne? You know my name.[X] Write in: What are you? And that come to the dark side speech doesn't work on me - you don't know me, bitch; this is my house, my rules already!

"You know my name, and it isn't Anne. I'm betting that's some kind of hag's name, so it isn't really flattery. Should I be calling you Circe or something?" You take a step closer to her and she just smiles again. "Don't fucking try and convince me to come to the dark side, I'm already way beyond that." Well, maybe not, but you're definitely not letting her know that.

She isn't a witch; a witch would need to wear the skin of someone to change into them. You shake your head, trying to remain focused.

"What the hell are you, Priscilla? Something I should consider a threat?" You take a deep breath and she blinks, her smile faltering again as you move closer, seeming to tower over her in the dark. "Because if you're a threat, I'll make sure you stop being one....Really. Damn. Quick."

"You need me. You can't kill the vampire without me." Priscilla takes a step closer, despite your menace. "If you kill all the little ones, the big one is going to ~get hungreee~. And you know what happens then?" She leans forward, looking up at you. "All your precious kiddies start to die, one by one."

She's lying. She needs the vampire to kill you. The bigger and badder the monster the more she needs it. You pause, conflicted, unsure what to believe. If she's a sorceress, she'll have a mark, a wound, something to make her belong to whatever granted her power. That you understand perfectly.

[] Convince her to strip for you.[] Just kill her and be done with it. You'll figure it all out later.[] She's still a broken, fucked up kid; that's a weakness all on it's own.[] Write in:

>>1993494>[] She's still a broken, fucked up kid; that's a weakness all on it's own.>If you wanted to help me, you wouldn't have pulled this shit, even you're not that detached from reality.

>She's lying. She needs the vampire to kill you. The bigger and badder the monster the more she needs it. I'm not sure I follow this logic, like if we kill the vampire then wouldn't we then be the bigger and badder monster that she needs?

[X] She's still a broken, fucked up kid; that's a weakness all on it's own.[X] Convince her to strip for you.[X] Write in: Tiffy would be in danger too. And if you really wanted my help, you wouldn't have done this, unless you're really that detached from reality.

Studying Priscilla something becomes immediately obvious to you. Beyond her soulless, detached, sociopathic nature she's still broken in a more basic, simple manner. She wants affection - Tiffany, yours, someone's. She wants to be needed, just like the rest of you.

And that is a weakness you can leverage.

"Doesn't that mean your precious Tiffany dies to, Priscilla?" Her smile doesn't falter one bit. "Oh, you think you can protect her, is that it?" You take a quick, sudden step up, and grab her blouse at the throat, startling her into dropping the facade, shocking the permanent smile from her face and showing you the terrorized, terrified little girl beneath the mask. You whisper in her ear softly, letting your lips brush against her cheek and ear, ignoring how it makes your flesh crawl and your shoulders try and crawl up your neck to hide on top of your head.

"Did they perform an exorcism, tell you you're possessed? Did they sprinkle holy water on you, try and drive the devil away?" Her breath hitches and you run your fingers through her lilac scented hair. "But you learned to hide it, just like me. Pretend your a good girl, pretend you're the precious angel they want you to be, while you laugh inside, knowing how wrong they are, how you're not alone anymore, you have your special friend to help you." She relaxes, her hands coming to rest on your hips.

Stepping back, you look those dead eyes, but you can't not see the fear in them, the horror she lives with forever burned into her scarred, traumatized brain. With a smile you shrug off you jacket, dropping it to the floor. "Get undressed," you tell her and she looks wary, though that haunted, painted on smile is back. "Come on....if you want to be mine, then you have to be mine, you know?" You strip off your blouse, baring your worn out cotton bra, and she licks her lips, looking away. "Come on....you did okay wearing someone else's face....I want to see your real face."

She lifts her hands and slowly starts to unbutton her blouse as you slowly strip off your jeans, toeing off your shoes clumsily, trying to keep your attention on her. Your breathing speeds up, and not because you're excited or eager, but because you're afraid. You don't want to even pretend to do this, but you're going to have to, if you want to convince her.

>>1993530...yeah that's about what I was expecting. At least pretending to want to be friends with her could eventually lead to us at least not being enemies. I can think of one or two ways to spin this, but it's not gonna be easy. ...it'll at least be interesting I guess.

>>1993549I wasn't sure if that was because she found Priscilla's demeanor super-uncanny and seeing there being at least traces of a person behind that mask can help, or if it was an instinctual response to what she is, which... Probably doesn't bode well to what she can do to us